Accidents happen
by animelvr4evr
Summary: ONESHOT. Death fic. It was an accident, really. He didn’t mean to go that far. But it wasn’t entirely his fault… they’re the ones who didn’t notice. They’re the one to blame… right?


Title: Accidents Happen  
Genres: angst  
Warnings/Disclaimers: I DO NOT OWN POT!

Pairing: none really  
Rating: T  
Summary: ONESHOT. Death fic. It was an accident, really. He didn't mean to go that far. But it wasn't entirely his fault… they're the ones who didn't notice. They're the one to blame… right?

It was raining, the sky was a shade of dark violet, and the ground was full of crying people in black. Parents comforted the mother and father of the dead, while the older siblings lend their shoulders for their younger brother/sister to cry for their friend. Somewhere near, a figure, held down by chains, went unnoticed.

The figure scoffed at all this, and screamed. "Why are you here? It's not like anyone of you care! You all wanted me gone, so I fulfilled your damn wish!" his hands clenched into two fists, rattling the chains, but no noise was made. No one turned, no one heard a thing.

The father of the fallen fell on his knees and slammed both his fists on top of the grave, crying. He chanted "It's all my fault" over and over again. The dark figure stared, his chest unusually tight. "Oyaji (spelling?)…" tears threatened to fall, but he closed his eyes, and shook his head. "No… it IS his fault, they are all to blame. They're the ones who placed so much pressure on me. They were the ones who left me."

The mother went over to her spouse and helped him up, her shoulders shaking from the water that leaked from her eyes. Their niece was standing close, watching everyone, but not really seeing; her face was pale and wet, from tears and from the rain. The family friends and relatives didn't know what to say or do. As the family moved away from the grave slowly, a group of boys, no a group of young men, walked forward. They all held a single black rose and a tennis ball in their hands.

On the side, Nanjirou was muttering "I should've known. He was acting strange. He was at the age where parents were needed most or else depression will sweep over them. Why didn't I notice? All I cared about was him being the best tennis player around, and he was, but I never praised him, I never congratulated him on his wins. Instead, I pushed him harder, wanting him to be the best in the WORLD." He used both his hands to cover his face.

The group of young men were silent when the tallest of the group walked forward and placed the rose and ball on top of the grace, tears falling freely from his violet eyes. "Baka Echizen, why'd you go and do that for? …" he was silent for a minute before speaking again. "I guess it really was our fault." He straightened up, tears were still falling, but it was to the pace of the rain so it wasn't noticeable. "We did promise you that we will all still be here when you came back from the US Open. Hell, I prided myself as your best friend, but I didn't notice the hurt in your eyes when you came back, and shrugged it off when we told you we all went our separate ways. I'm sorry." he went to stand beside the gravestone instead of in front of it.

The next to walk up were Inui and Kaidoh. The mamushi didn't say anything, and just placed the items in his hand on the grave, next to Momoshiro's stuff. Inui pushed his glasses up with the his finger after he placed several books on top of the grave, all with the name "Echizen Ryoma" on it. The two went to stand next to Momo as Kawamura went forward. "Gomen Echizen. I love playing tennis, but I promised my father that I will quit after I graduated from Jr. High, and you knew that. I know the group drifted, but we're still friends, and we DO care about you."

The dark figure on the side stood there, watching everything with a silent stare. Then he looked at both his arms. When he was alive, he was able to hide them through make-up, but they were so damn visible. All over his arms were criss cross and designs that showed his cutting habits. They all varied from sizes, from thin to wide, long to short, but the most distinctive ones were the ones on both his wrists. They were two very long, very wide, very deep scars. These were the ones that he cut over and over again. The only ones he didn't need to cover with make-up because his writs bands were always there.

"Nya Oishi, why did this have to happen to ochibi? I don't want it! It's our fault isn't it? We were the ones who are closest to him, and yet we didn't notice a thing! Do you know what they said about his body? They said he had close to hundreds of scars on him! WHY DIDN'T WE NOTICE?" the usually hyper red-head was crying loudly, with his distressed doubles pair next to him. The two looked up when they both felt a hand on their shoulder. "Echizen wouldn't want you to be like this. You didn't do anything wrong. I did promise him that we'll one day continue our match, but I quit tennis, and instead took up photography." The tensai opened his watery eyes. The three place the rose and tennis ball on the grave.

The last of the original Seigaku regular went forward. He placed the rose and tennis ball onto the grave with his right hand. He clenched it into a fist and said words that only the dark figure was able to hear. "Echizen, I failed you. Out of all of us, the one that must've caused you the most pain must be me." The dark figure looked up "Buchou…" Tezuka stood straight and his right hand grabbed where his left arm should've been, instead the left sleeve was fluttering in the wind, with nothing to hold it in shape. After that, many others went up to the grave including the regulars of Rikkaidai, St. Rudolph, Fudomine, Yamabuki, Hyotei, Johsei, Rokkaku, Sakano, Tomoya, Horio, Arai, Kashio, Kachirou, and last but not least, Kevin Smith.

The spirit looked at them all with sadness. "… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it, really. It was an accident." Images flashed of the young pro hugging himself at night, while a small blade glinted from the moonlight that shone through the window. He saw himself sliding the blade across his wrists for the first time, tears falling from his emotionless eyes. The scene flashed to another night, the most vivid night of his memories. That day, he had lost because of his oversized ego, and Nanjiroh had bitched at him the rest of the night. That night, he went too far, he cut too deep, but he managed to stop the bleeding. That was the night he promised to never cut again. However, fate was not with him since the very next day, his wounds reopened when playing tennis, though others didn't notice, he asked to go home early; he had lost another game. When he was crossing the streets, the lights turned on him, and he wanted to hurry, but he was weak and dizzy from the blood lost, and the last thing he saw was a pair of headlights, and loud, honking noises before darkness took over. The dark figure, also known as Echizen Ryoma went to stand in front of his own gravestone. His long pale fingers reached over and slid over the smooth, marble surface and read the engravings.

_Here lies Ryoma Echizen,_

_Beloved son and friend._

"_Reach for the world."_

_December 24 (insert year) – December 25 (19 years later) _

The sky was clearing, and sunlight shone through the dark clouds. The figure turned to a young man, with lion-like eyes, and jade-green hair. He smirked as he looked up to the sky as his appearance was slowly dissolving. "Mada, mada dane, minna."

END! Damnit… that was horribly written T-T.


End file.
